


lonely when you hold me

by k0skareeves



Series: to have you fully [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Cheating, Dark!Jon, Drama, F/M, Jealousy, Jon is very much in love with Sansa, Romance, Sansa married Aegon to join the families, The Targaryens and The Starks are two mafia families, sharing is caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k0skareeves/pseuds/k0skareeves
Summary: Tumblr prompt: “You know me better than that.”
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Aegon VI Targaryen
Series: to have you fully [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832314
Comments: 35
Kudos: 115





	lonely when you hold me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charmtion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmtion/gifts).



> For the lovely Charm, who was kind enough to request a prompt. Hope you enjoy this, darling!
> 
> Any mistakes are my own :)

Jon makes love to her earnestly on a Sunday morning, unaware of what’s to come.

They’re in her house, her bedroom, her bed, naked and well rested. That’s a rare occasion. They usually sneak out, stealing moments at his place or at a cheap motel, somewhere they can’t be caught. Or if they have to do it inside the mansion, it’s usually in one of the guest bedrooms, or the basement, or the poolhouse. Never in here, in the bed that she sleeps in, in the room she shares with his brother, in the same place where she fucks her husband.

Maybe this is crossing a line, but lately they're all blurry in his mind. She wanted him to stay with her for the week, to keep her company while Aegon was gone, and he can never deny her. She wanted him to share the bed and to cuddle with her after and he can't complain about it. She dismissed the staff, so it's just the two of them and Clegane, always watching from the shadows. That gives him the opportunity to have her in all sorts of places, but here, in this bed, seems to be his favorite spot so far. It's a very comfortable bed, yes. Sansa likes egyptian cotton sheets and soft pillows and lavender scented fabric softener. And he likes to make her moan his name in the same place where she probably moans his brother's.

_ "Jon." _

Her eyes are closed, her lips parted, her skin flushed. He has her hands over her head, pinned together to the mattress by his strong grip. His knees support him while he slams into her, his other hand busy with her clit, rubbing at a gentle pace, making her squirmish and almost at the edge. Her legs are tightly wrapped around his hips, the heels of her feet pushing against his lower back, encouraging him to keep moving. She's whispering his name, over and over, and her body starts to shiver. He feels her walls clenching around his length, pushing him near completion, and he grabs her hips to still her, pulling out just in time to finish on her stomach, muttering curses under his breath.

He'd been eager to have her upon awakening to her ass pressed against his erection, so the condom had been forgotten and he can't take any chances, as much as the image of Sansa carrying his child is a constant in his most secret dreams. Yet fucking his brother’s wife is one thing, getting her pregnant is another much more different. A bastard in this situation might cost him his life, and Sansa's too, no matter her last name, no matter her father's power.

She has her eyes closed, breath still shaky from her orgasm, skin flushed the most lovely shade of pink. He leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, feeling her smile against him. He releases his grip on her wrists, leaving momentarily to grab a washcloth in the bathroom, using it to clean the mess on her belly. His touch is gentle, and once he’s done he continues to brush his fingers against her skin, tracing a path from her hip to her knee and back, simply admiring her naked body before him.

He feels more than hears her stomach rumbling and he chuckles. “Are you hungry?”

She nods, still not opening her eyes, and he can only smile. She’s always soft after they’re done, a tenderness in her that makes her seem vulnerable, and it gives him satisfaction to know that he’s the reason why. He leans in, trailing gentle kisses up her torso, until he reaches her right breast, flicking her nipple with his tongue. She whines, a sweet sound, skin still sensitive so he does it again, teasing the little nub to full hardness then sucking on it, earning himself a cry. “Eggs and toast?”

“And bacon.”

He smirks against her skin. “And bacon. Coming right up, puppy.”

The name started as a teasing. Her family’s sigil is a wolf, but Sansa had always looked too sweet, too delicate to be compared to such a wild beast. So he started calling her puppy, to rile her up, back when they were still kids, back when he didn’t know the extent of her temper. He doesn’t talk to her like that anymore, at least not in public, but the name is still dear to him. She may be a dragon princess to the rest of the world, but here, in the safety of his arms, she can still be a pup, and she can belong to him, if only for a little while.

He reaches for her lips, giving her a slow, sloppy kiss, before getting out of bed. Not bothering with a shirt, he grabs a pair of clean sweatpants from the bag he packed for the week, and heads out the room, making his way through the long, empty hallways, destined to the kitchen. The house is silent, and as he goes down the stairs a chill runs through him, a strange feeling that something might be wrong, but the mansion guards are still outside and Clegane is in here somewhere and Jon shakes his head, wondering if his mind started playing tricks on him. He makes it to the kitchen, opening the door with ease, abruptly stopping at the sight in front of him.

“Good morning.”

_ Shit. _

His brother is leaning against the kitchen isle, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper. Aegon is fully dressed in a dark burgundy velvet suit, his white blond hair combed back, looking ready for the day despite it being nine in the morning on a Sunday. Violet eyes stare intently at him, and Jon swallows, suddenly wishing he’d brought his gun down.

_ Stop, this is your brother. He’s not gonna hurt you. _

But given the fact that he was fucking Aegon’s wife minutes ago, Jon isn’t so sure.

He clears his throat, composing himself. “Morning. You’re back early.”

_ Three days early. I still had three days with her, you asshole. _

Lately he’s been bad at controlling his temper.

His brother closes the newspaper, placing it on the counter. “Indeed I am. Want some coffee? It’s fresh.”

Jon nods, not trusting himself to speak again. Aegon places his mug down and turns to fetch a clean one from one of the cupboards. Jon is surprised his brother even knows where his kitchenware goes. Aegon fills the mug with coffee, the steam rising, and offers it to Jon. He steps forwards, taking the mug, and brings it to his lips. It’s good coffee. He’s surprised about that too.  _ And it’s still very hot, which means he hasn’t been here long, which means there’s a chance he heard us.  _ He takes a long sip, letting the coffee burn his tongue, focusing on the pain. They stay in silence, eyes on each other, and Jon’s empty hand once again itches for his gun.

He breathes out.  _ Focus.  _ “So, you just got here?”

Aegon shakes his head. “The jet landed at two am, actually. You know, it’s quite the humbling experience, sleeping in a guest bedroom in your own house. I didn’t know all of our sheets were so soft.”

_ Fucking hell. _

Jon knows what that means. _He heard us. He most definitely heard us._ If Jon was any other man, he’d be dead by now. He knows he crossed a line, maybe multiple, definitely multiple. They have an spoken arrangement about this, which is: don’t talk about it and don’t get caught. Except Jon got caught, and now Aegon’s talking about it. 

_ Fucking hell indeed. _

He doesn’t know what compels him to say it, but it blurts out of him. “Well, Sansa does like egyptian cotton.”

This is a dangerous move, but it feels good to say it, feels good to state his claim over her, even if she’s not really his. He takes another sip of the coffee while his brother gives him a smirk. “Oh, I’m aware. My money pays for it.”

Jon chuckles. “More like dad’s money.”

Something flashes in Aegon’s eyes.  _ Too far? Maybe.  _ Would his brother shoot him? Jon knows Aegon is packing, he is always packing, but he’s not the fast one in the family. Jon watches as Aegon takes another sip himself, placing the mug back down on the counter, a low chuckle escaping him.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

Jon only smiles. He sees the way Aegon’s right hand twitches, as if meaning to reach for his gun.  _ Do it,  _ he thinks.  _ Do it so I can knock you down before you even get a chance to grab it. Do it so I’ll have a goddamn reason to punch you in the face.  _ They keep staring at each other, in silence, violet facing grey, brother facing brother, both so different yet in some ways the same, and sharing one very important thing.

“Baby!”

The moment is gone, tension breaking as her voice echoes in the kitchen. Aegon looks away, and Jon turns, watching Sansa standing by the door, silky red robe wrapped around her body, hair still messy from sleep and from their fucking. He watches as the blue in her eyes light up, and it almost kills him that her pretty smile is meant for another.

_ Time to put on a show. _

She runs to his brother, practically jumping on him, her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Aegon has both his hands on her ass, supporting her weight as he spins her one time, both laughing, then places her on the counter. Sansa is still wrapped around him, and he kisses her, eager, one hand tugging on her hair, the other moving up her thigh, exposing her bare, soft skin, the skin that Jon was kissing just a few minutes ago. Aegon continues to move his hand, reaching between her legs, and Jon makes a silent prayer, thanking God that she’s wearing panties, but his brother still has his knuckles pressed against her, rubbing, and Sansa moans into the kiss.

If Jon had his gun, he would shoot Aegon in the foot. Maybe in the leg. He’s sure of it. So it’s a good thing that he doesn’t, it’s a good thing that there are no knives near him either, because he desperately wants to chop off Aegon’s fingers one by one, and then feed them to him. 

It’s not a very pleasant thought but it gives him some comfort.

Sansa moans again and Aegon laughs, moving his hand to rest it on her hip. “I missed you.”

She speaks against his mouth. “Lies.”

His brother laughs again, placing a kiss on her cheek. “It’s true, I thought of you everyday.”

Sansa only has eyes for him. Jon’s chest aches. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Aegon leans back a little, cups her face, gives her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart. I got you something, though.”

Jon watches as he reaches inside his jacket, a small rectangular box in his hand, and he gives it to Sansa. She opens it, and from where Jon is standing he can see the gift, a delicate necklace, with a golden chain and a charm in the middle, red and black stones shaped in the form of a small dragon, their family sigil.

“Aegon! Oh my god, it’s beautiful!”

It certainly is, and it looks quite expensive as well. For a brief moment, Jon wonders how much his brother spent on the gift, a large sum to compensate for his absence during such an important day as a wedding anniversary.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

That has him rolling his eyes. He takes another sip of his coffee, the bitterness on his tongue seeming appropriate. He knows another man would’ve left by now, not wanting to witness the woman he loves - because,  _ fuck, _ he loves her and he’d do anything for her, he can’t deny that - trading sweet endearments with another, but he also knows Aegon being back early has nothing to do with him missing Sansa.  _ Something's wrong. _

She takes the necklace out of the box, placing it around her neck with ease, her hand reaching to trace the small shape of the dragon on her chest. “It’s precious. You shouldn’t have.”

Aegon smiles at her. “It’s for our anniversary. You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

_ No, you just didn’t bother sticking around for it. But don’t worry, I made sure she had a good time. _

Jon keeps that to himself, hand still itching for the gun. It would be crazy, but it would also feel good. “We did, actually.”

Sansa closes her eyes at his words, a frown between her brows, but she composes herself quickly. Aegon smirls, his thumb caressing her cheek. He keeps his eyes on her while he speaks. “Come on, brother. You know me better than that.”

“Thank you.” she says, her eyes now beaming up at Aegon, and Jon has no doubt he would shoot him if he had his gun. On the leg, yes, and also on the dick. “I love it.”

His brother smiles, and kisses her again, slowly, pushing his tongue inside her mouth, his hand on her hip moving up to her breast over the fabric of her robe.  _ Time to put on a fucking show, indeed.  _ Jon considers himself a patient man, especially in the world they live in, and he prides himself for his restraint, but there’s only so much one can take in a situation like this. He feigns a coff, getting Aegon to laugh against Sansa’s mouth, breaking their kiss. His brother reaches for his coffee mug again, taking a sip, and gives Jon a look, something that can be read as  _ go on, I dare you to say something about the way I’m kissing my wife in my kitchen,  _ and Jon’s hand flexes, but he keeps quiet. His eyes go to Sansa, who is watching him now, the first time she’s looked at him since he’s woken her up with sweet kisses, and he focuses on the sky blue of eyes, reading the plea behind them for him to calm down and back off. 

“I’m gonna go freshen up,” he tells them, giving Sansa a harsh look before staring back at his brother. “I’m guessing there’s a reason why you’re back early.”

Aegon nods. “There is. We’ll talk once you’re done.”

Jon looks at Sansa one last time, before turning away. He needs to remind himself of who she is, needs to remind himself that she doesn’t belong to him, and that he’s lucky he even gets to have these stolen moments with her, needs to remember she’s married to his brother, that the Targaryens are a united front, and that this arrangement between the three of them only works as long as he plays his part, as long as he’s aware of his place. He’s usually good at remembering, good at keeping his feelings in check, good at masking his emotions in front of his brother, but lately it’s been getting harder.

And Jon doesn’t think he can do this much longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> come find me on tumblr if you feel like it!
> 
> Xxxxxx


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